I didn't want to wake up this morning - I wanted to sleep in. But I had an early conference call that I knew was coming and the little triangle of light that gets in between the curtains over the A/C unit was practically blinding me.
When I walked out of my bedroom and into the hallway/bathroom, I thought to myself "damn it smells bad over here." See, it seems like it's been getting worse and worse, and I even joked with myself that if the bad smell is coming from the toilet area, it may be a sign that we need to break down and clean the damn thing. But it doesn't seem to be coming from the toilet. More like behind the toilet. In the wall. The wall that I share with my office all day.
I didn't want to think it, but the thought just happened the way thoughts sometimes do: I think we have a decaying animal carcass on our hands. Somewhere...I'm not quite sure where yet.
Then I discovered a mistake I had made at work and I told my boss about it. She kept asking me to get on the phone to work through it, but I did not want to get on the phone. I wanted to keep my head in the sand via email. I wanted to stress and pace and cry and then pull myself up by the bootstraps to find a way to blame the problem on someone else.
I was emailing my mom anyway, so I told her about the work mistake too. Trying to sound positive I moved on from my griping to say "Our veggie garden has gone almost wild. We're going to slowly start cutting things back and taking out some of the lettuce which wants nothing more than to bolt and become bitter. (like life.)" I said. "(I kid.)"
But I was only halfway kidding.
On my way to lunch I poked myself in the eye with my keys. I tripped on our old dog, and I blamed him even though he is ancient. While I was in the car on my way to The In-N-Out Burger it seemed that all of Chico's radio stations agreed that they would only play Taio Cruz's "Dynamite" and Kid Rock's "I am the Bullgod" whilst I was in transit.
I was thinking about this when the VERY OVERLY peppy gal at the drive through window handed me my soda. A few moments passed by and she handed me my burger and told me to have a lovely day goodbye thankyouverymuch. And I actually looked at her like she was out of her mind and said "Caaaan I also please have my soda?".
She looked scared. Like maybe I was schizophrenic. She said "I um, think I just um, gave it to you". And DUBIOUS at best, I sort of scoffed and looked down at my drink holder in the car and was actually shocked to see that the soda was there.
Then there was this guy on the freeway on the way home, and I don't have a specific complaint about him, other than he was driving like a real asshole.
I thought for a minute about saying on my Facebook wall that it had been a terrible horrible no good very bad day, but then I remembered that I really hate when people write even remotely emo things on their Facebook walls. I have unfriended fools for less.
Anyways, by the evening time, as work wrapped up and I snuggled up on the couch with an old Sex and the City episode, a glass of wine and Fall feeling nail polish (Steel-Her Heart by Revlon) I started feeling better. I flipped through the latest Vogue magazine with wet hair and wet nails and a la Carrie Bradshaw, I couldn't help but wonder if days like this just happen sometimes.
